


Forbidden Fruit

by notallbees



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Cunnilingus, F/M, Female Ejaculation, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Magical Accidents, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, gushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23269234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallbees
Summary: "Our esteemed Prince," Felix said, in a voice dripping with distaste, "agreed to help some students from another house with their crest research.""But there was a little mishap," Ingrid put in.Sylvain watched him, waiting for the rest. "O...kay. And?"Felix snorted. "And they turned him into a girl. Our Prince is now a Princess."Sylvain stared. "Wait,what?"Dimitri gets turned into a girl, and Sylvain can't cope.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 34
Kudos: 251





	Forbidden Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> This fic isn't inspired by [Lola](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnA0gaHrXGA) but if I could have made the title "Well, I'm not the world's most physical guy/But when she squeezed me tight she nearly broke my spine" believe me I would have.
> 
> There is now accompanying art to the story by the amazing [@yozoraing](https://twitter.com/yozoraing)! (There's also a link in the end notes if you prefer not to spoil.)
> 
> You can check out the art (nsfw!) [right here](https://privatter.net/i/4710735).

There was a stir in the dining hall at breakfast. Sylvain had arrived late, and he took a seat beside Felix, who looked more annoyed than usual.

"What's wrong?" Sylvain asked, reaching across him to grab a bread roll. "Someone step on your tail again?"

Felix bristled. "For the last time, I am not a cat," he spat, scowling at Sylvain. 

"Of course not," Sylvain soothed absently as he buttered his roll. It was often best to wait for Felix to come to you when he was ready, rather than trying to force an answer out of him, so he busied himself with filling his plate from the various dishes laid out on the table. 

Sure enough, after a minute or so, Felix spoke, "That idiotic boar," he growled, cutting his eyes across to the other side of the hall, where Dimitri sat with hunched shoulders, eating very little and seemingly doing his best to ignore everyone around him. 

Sylvain glanced back at Felix, then over at Dimitri again. "Did you two fall out again?" he asked, wrinkling his nose.

Felix snorted. "This has nothing to do with _me_. He got into this all on his own."

"Into what?" Sylvain wondered aloud. 

"Sylvain!" a voice cried suddenly. Ingrid slammed her hands down on the other side of the table, making the dishes rattle. "You have to talk to him—her—oh, it's such a _mess_."

"That's one word for it," Felix said with a huff.

Sylvain blinked at her. "Ingrid. What's a mess?"

"Dimitri," they both said together, in matching exasperated tones. 

"Dimitri…" Sylvain said, pondering as he chewed a mouthful of his eggs. They were still watching him when he finished and swallowed. "What's he done?"

They both started talking at once, each speaking in stage whispers and gesturing emphatically as they complained. 

"Why he'd agree to something like—"  
"Of all the foolish, pigheaded—"  
"He won't even talk to the Professor about it—"  
"—never known such a gullible, idiotic—"

"Woah, woah!" Sylvain interrupted, holding up his hands to halt them. "One at a time. What happened?"

Felix and Ingrid exchanged glances, but before one of them could speak, Dimitri stood suddenly, so quickly that he knocked over the bench he was sitting on. It clattered loudly to the floor, silencing the din of conversation in the hall. Dimitri's face was scarlet, and he was holding himself oddly, almost as though he was injured. 

"Is he alright?" Sylvain asked. 

Dimitri looked over at that moment, casting a frantic glance in their direction. Felix scoffed, and Ingrid sighed. Sylvain raised a cautious hand in greeting. Dimitri's eyes widened, then he scampered away, ducking out of the nearest exit without a backward glance. 

"Does he look...different, to you?" Sylvain asked, frowning. 

"Oh, Sylvain—" Ingrid sighed.

"Our esteemed Prince," Felix said, in a voice dripping with distaste, "agreed to help some students from another house with their crest research."

"But there was a little mishap," Ingrid put in.

Sylvain watched him, waiting for the rest. "O...kay. And?"

Felix snorted. "And they turned him into a girl. Our Prince is now a Princess."

Sylvain stared. "Wait, _what_?"

—

It had been two hours since Sylvain found out the news about Dimitri, and he still couldn't wrap his mind around it. Dimitri was a girl now. Dimitri. A girl.

"Sylvain?"

From the back, Dimitri didn't look any different. His hair was the same, his shoulders still broad, although his hips were wider, his backside more generous. Sylvain could see that his uniform fitted in the wrong places, straining over his hips and thighs, and around his chest. 

"Sylvain!" 

He sat bolt upright in his seat at the sound of his name, the realisation that it wasn't the first time he'd been called. "Yes!" he said, meeting Manuela's impatient gaze.

"Is there something more important than listening to my lecture, Mister Gautier?"

The class tittered with amusement. From the row in front, Dimitri turned to look at him, wide-eyed. His face, Sylvain realised, was softer than usual, his jaw less defined, his lips fuller. Sylvain gripped the edge of the desk so hard it made his fingers ache. 

Dragging his eyes away from Dimitri's face, Sylvain turned his attention back to Manuela, who was waiting impatiently for his response. "Nothing could be more important than listening to you, Manuela-sensei," he said, feigning sincerity. 

Manuela smiled sweetly. "Pay attention to my lecture and I might believe you, Mister Gautier."

Sylvain nodded, muttering an apology. Dimitri was still watching him, and when Sylvain met his gaze again, he was treated to a brief, sympathetic smile, before Dimitri turned to face the front once more. 

Cowed, Sylvain hunched down in his seat and did his best to focus on the remainder of the lecture, although his thoughts inevitably strayed back to Dimitri before long.

—

When class ended that day, Dimitri hurried away before anyone could speak to him. Packing up his things quickly, Sylvain gave chase, stalking him all the way to the dormitories before Dimitri stopped suddenly in the silent hallway and turned to face him. 

"Why are you following me?" he demanded. His voice was an octave higher than usual. He held his books against his chest, his arms folded around them. 

Sylvain cleared his throat. "Who said I was following you?" he said casually. "I live here too, Your Highness."

"W-well," Dimitri stammered, flushing. 

"Is it true?" Sylvain asked, taking a step closer. He wished Dimitri would put down his books so Sylvain could get a proper look at his chest. With effort, he forced himself to meet Dimitri's gaze instead of staring. "Did you really get turned into a girl?"

Dimitri flushed scarlet, clutching his books more tightly against himself. "Not out here," he whispered, turning and unlocking the door to his room. He gestured for Sylvain to step inside, then closed the door firmly behind them both. With a sigh, Dimitri set down his pile of books and let his arms fall to his sides, his hands clenched into fists. "Have you come to laugh?" he asked. 

Sylvain swallowed. Dimitri's voice was so much softer. Beneath his ill-fitting uniform, Sylvain could see the shape of his breasts, tightly packed in, the buttons of his tunic straining across them. His eyes fell to Dimitri's hips, where his trousers were too tight around his backside, and bunched up at the groin. 

"Sylvain," Dimitri said tightly. 

"Can they put you back?" Sylvain asked, dragging his gaze back to Dimitri's face. A terrible, selfish little part of him wanted the answer to be _no_.

Dimitri grimaced. "I...do not know." 

Sylvain's mouth was dry. "Can I…" 

Dimitri looked up at him sharply, his eyes wild. Sylvain's question died on his tongue. If it was anyone else, maybe they could have a joke about it. Maybe Sylvain really could ask to see what he looked like under those heavy layers. But Dimitri was too serious, too buttoned up. Sylvain was all too aware of how easily he could shatter the fragile trust between them.

"Ah, nothing," he said, forcing a laugh.

"You must think me so foolish," Dimitri muttered, face crumpling as he hung his head. "I know I look ridiculous—"

"You look beautiful," Sylvain said without thinking. He caught himself and looked away, forcing another weak chuckle. "That is—I don't think you're foolish. Foolishly kind, perhaps…"

Dimitri huffed quietly. "Perhaps," he allowed. "But beautiful…" Dimitri trailed off with a sigh. "I see that a young woman in your vicinity doesn't even need to be wearing a skirt for you to try chasing it."

Sylvain recoiled, the gentle words like a slap in the face. "...Right," he said, with a weak smile. "That's what I was doing."

"Sylvain," Dimitri sighed. "I thought we had discussed this. I believe I was quite clear about the impropriety of someone in your position—" 

"Yeah, yeah," Sylvain said, hoping his words came across as dismissive, rather than injured. "You know me," he continued, forcing jollity. "Just can't help myself." He took a step back and executed an exaggerated bow. "My apologies, Your Highness."

"It's quite alright," Dimitri said, his embarrassment seemingly lessened now that he could turn his attention to telling Sylvain off instead. "I know you'll do better."

Sylvain gritted his teeth, his smile a grimace. He'd never minded Dimitri's lectures; Dimitri had always been serious and conscientious, ever since they were children, and there was something charming about watching him struggle to grow and fill his role as a leader. This time, though, it grated. "Your Highness is most generous," he said, and couldn't help the way his gaze dropped to Dimitri's chest again as he took his leave. "Most generous."

—

Things only got worse the following day. A morning spent in the classroom was followed by a series of punishing drills in the training grounds. The day was warm, and the sun beat down on them as they ran through their weapon drills. One by one, they succumbed to the heat, removing layers and gulping down flasks of warm water. 

Dimitri held out longer than the rest, but finally he too began to droop, sweat coursing down his face and the side of his neck. Glancing around furtively, he stripped off his gloves, and then after several moments' hesitation, his jacket too, leaving him in only his thin, sleeveless undershirt. 

Sylvain froze, eyes wide. Even from several feet away, the sweat shone on Dimitri's neck, the hollow of his throat, his broad, bare shoulders. The thin fabric of his undershirt clung to his flushed skin. His hair was damp at the nape of his neck, a trickle of sweat running down his spine. And then he turned, shoulders hunched and eyes furtive, and Sylvain saw the unmistakable swell of his unbound breasts beneath his shirt, the near-translucent fabric doing little to hide his newfound gifts. 

Sylvain's lance clattered from his hands as Ingrid took advantage of his distraction to disarm him easily. He swore, clutching his injured hand to his chest. 

"What's the matter?" Ingrid asked, triumphant grin wavering. She glanced across the ring to where Dimitri was retrieving his weapon. "Is something wrong with the Prince?"

Nearby, Felix snorted. He seemed equal parts aggrieved and amused by Dimitri's predicament, but by some miracle had so far resisted rebuking him over it. 

Apparently unaware that he was being watched, Dimitri retrieved his weapon once more and turned to cross lances with Ashe. The boy still only came up to Dimitri's shoulder, and the tips of his ears were flushed as they began to spar again, Dimitri's generous new assets bouncing wildly as he ducked and swung and lunged. Around them, the training session ground to a halt, more people ceasing their own bouts to watch. Grumbling, Felix turned his back on Dimitri and began assaulting a nearby training dummy instead. 

The fight was absurdly one-sided. Ashe was lithe and quick, but Dimitri had been training to fight with a lance since he was a child, and now that he was unencumbered by his heavy woollen clothing, he bested Ashe in what felt like mere moments, knocking his lance aside and tumbling him onto his backside. Ashe blinked up at him, stunned for a moment, until Dimitri set the haft of his weapon in the dirt and bent down to offer his opponent a hand.

"Y-Your H-Highness," Ashe stammered, staring up at him as he quickly flushed scarlet.

Dimitri frowned. "Are you well, Ashe?"

"Y-yes!" Ashe squeaked. "Of course!" 

"Then will you not take my hand?" Dimitri asked, bending further forward. 

Ashe let out another nervous squeak and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Still, he lifted his arm aloft, and seizing his hand, Dimitri pulled him to his feet. As Dimitri straightened up again, squaring his shoulders, he seemed to forget momentarily that he was a different shape to normal; his breasts strained against his undershirt, nipples hard and prominent. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck, and between his breasts. Oblivious to the effect he was having, Dimitri clapped a shamefaced Ashe on the shoulder, laughing encouragement. And then, like a dark cloud passing over the sun, he suddenly noticed that the rest of the class had gathered to watch them. His face fell, shoulders hunching. 

"Ah, I—forgive me, everyone."

"Oh, dear," Mercedes sighed. Sylvain hadn't noticed her stepping up beside him. 

He cleared his throat and asked, "What's 'Oh dear'?" 

Mercedes gave him an enigmatic smile. "I think our fair prince may need a little help," she said in a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't you?"

"Help?" Sylvain said blankly. 

She gave an exaggerated sigh. "Annie? Would you help me with something?"

Annette hurried over, and the two girls shared a whispered exchange before approaching Dimitri. Sylvain watched as they drew him aside, watched as his eyebrows shot into his hairline. After a moment, Dimitri gave a yelp, then scooped up his jacket and dragged it on as quickly as he could, tugging the thick fabric tight around his chest. 

"Enough distractions," Felix growled. Using the flat of his sword, he hit Sylvain across the back of his thighs. "Look alive, Gautier. "

"Right," Sylvain said, voice still distracted, mind still busy with the image of Dimitri, sweat-soaked and carefree; the dark, damp crevice between his breasts. He closed his eyes, shook it off. "Go easy on me this time, Felix," he said, just to get a rise out of his opponent. 

It worked; Felix snarled at him, and Sylvain laughed as he retrieved his own training sword, the tension broken, his mind no longer full of the image of trailing his tongue down the centre of Dimitri's chest. 

—

The girls had hurried Dimitri away at the end of their training session: for what purpose was anybody's guess. 

Their business came clear that evening at dinner, when the whole crowd of them entered the hall together; Mercedes and Annette looking pleased, Ingrid uncomfortable, while Dimitri brought up the rear, looking positively terrified. Sylvain set down his spoon when he realised he was spilling his soup, and watched as the girls approached.

"Good evening," Mercedes greeted them sweetly, as though nothing at all were amiss. She took a seat beside Felix, who ignored her and continued to draw his diagram of troop movements on a napkin for Ashe, though the other boy had stopped paying attention. 

Sylvain couldn't stop _staring_. The girls had somehow found a uniform to fit Dimitri. A girl's uniform. The collar was close around his neck, much like his usual wear, but the jacket was cut to account for the significant increase in his bust size. The uniform nipped in at the waist, while a plain skirt accentuated the flare of his hips. His legs were bare beneath the skirt, with riding boots and long socks to the knee. Several tantalising inches of bare thigh demanded Sylvain's attention. His mind presented him with the sudden image of running his hands up those thighs, lifting the hem of Dimitri's skirt, exploring what lay beneath it. 

"What do you think?" Mercedes asked, her tone light.

Dimitri flushed. "Mercedes, please—"

"It suits you, Your Highness," Dedue rumbled.

If it were possible, Dimitri's pink face turned pinker still. "...Thank you, Dedue," he mumbled. 

"You make such a pretty girl!" Annette exclaimed, beaming up at him. 

"Please," Dimitri muttered, moving to take a seat. "I appreciate everyone's kind words, but they are quite unnecessary."

"Can't you all stop staring at her?" Felix growled from across the table. "You're all starting to sound like Sylvain."

"What's it got to do with me?" Sylvain wailed in protest. 

Felix went back to his diagram with an exasperated huff. Sylvain rolled his eyes. Evidently Felix was in one of his moods again, and Sylvain wasn't especially inclined to tease him just then. Better to ignore him. As he turned his attention back to his meal, his gaze met Dimitri's across the table. He was thrown off again by how odd it was to look into the other boy's face, noting the subtle differences to his usual appearance. 

"Do I...really not look too foolish?" Dimitri asked him in a low voice.

Sylvain's eyes widened. "That's a joke, right, Your Highness?"

Dimitri glanced away, ears pinking. "Actually, Sylvain," he continued softly, "I wanted to ask your help with a...rather delicate matter."

"Oh?" Sylvain asked, perking up.

"Please—can we talk after dinner?"

"Well…sure," Sylvain agreed, nodding. He returned to his meal as Dimitri began to tuck into his own. He couldn't help wondering what Dimitri could possibly need his help with; after his display in the training grounds that afternoon, perhaps he needed help with an overeager suitor. The thought filled Sylvain with a sick, uncomfortable sensation. He forced it down and ate his braised pheasant mechanically. 

Dimitri was waylaid upon finishing his meal, and Sylvain ended up lingering in the entrance hall, waiting for the other boy to join him. Girl. Dammit, Sylvain couldn't keep it straight in his mind. 

"Sylvain!" Dimitri called at last, and Sylvain turned in time to see him emerge from the dining hall. At Dimitri's direction they headed out of the front gate, and along to a quiet spot near the greenhouse, where Sylvain had gone to fool around with a girl on more than one occasion. 

"What's on your mind, Your Highness?" he drawled, wondering if Dimitri knew the spot's reputation. 

Dimitri sighed. He looked over his shoulder one way, then the other, before putting his hand against Sylvain's chest and pushing him further back into the shade of the large clematis that grew around the greenhouse. 

"Uh—" Sylvain began awkwardly, eyes widening as his shoulders hit the wall. "Y-Your Highness…?"

"Hush," Dimitri said quietly. "Please, I don't want anyone to know."

Sylvain's stomach flipped. He'd heard those particular words far too often, and the reply spilled off his tongue without thinking, "I don't kiss and tell, Your Highness."

Dimitri's nose wrinkled, which Sylvain found utterly charming. "Very well."

With a nod, Sylvain leaned down, eyes sliding shut as their faces neared enough for him to feel Dimitri's startled breath against his cheek. His heart was pounding. He hadn't expected Dimitri to ask him for this, but he was more than ready to give it all the same. 

"Sylvain!" Dimitri yelped, wrenching away from him. 

Sylvain opened his eyes. "Huh?"

"What do you think you're doing?" Dimitri squeaked.

"Uh—" Panic rolled through him, seizing his throat tight. Sylvain forced a smile. "Force of habit, sorry."

Dimitri sighed, long-suffering. "Sylvain, how many times must we have this discussion?"

"At least once more?" Sylvain suggested, his heart still racing in his chest. 

"Never mind," Dimitri said, waving a hand dismissively. "I have a more...pressing matter I need your help with."

Sylvain cleared his throat. "I'm at your service, Your Highness."

Dimitri nodded. He glanced away briefly. The light was fading, and they stood in shadows beneath the leafy climber, but still Sylvain could make out the flush suffusing Dimitri's face and neck. "There is—you see, I—I have not been able to—"

A thousand possibilities raced through Sylvain's mind. He patiently squashed each one. 

"I have not—" Dimitri paused and took a deep breath, before continuing in a low murmur, " _bathed_."

Sylvain's eyes widened. "Oh." Truth be told, Dimitri did smell a _little_ ripe, but it was hardly surprising after their vigorous training session that afternoon. "Why not?"

"Because—!" Dimitri said loudly, before catching himself and lowering his voice once more. "I—it feels— _improper_ to—touch myself."

Dimitri's face was scarlet as he mumbled the last few words into his _improper_ chest. For several moments, Sylvain could only stare at him, utterly lost for words. Dimitri still wouldn't meet his gaze, and as the moments dragged out, he hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest. Sylvain kept staring.

"Sylvain!" Dimitri said at last.

"Right." Sylvain blinked. "Sorry. Yeah. Wait, how do you use the bathroom?"

Dimitri choked. "With—with great expediency," he muttered. 

There was nothing to say to that. They stared at one another, Sylvain faintly pink, Dimitri scarlet. 

"Are you—" Sylvain said at last, when it became clear that Dimitri had temporarily lost all power of speech. "What are you asking me?"

Dimitri covered his face and groaned. "Could you...help me…?"

"...Help you…?"

His voice dropped to a whisper. "To—to bathe." 

"...What?"

"Please, there is nobody else I can call upon to—" 

"Why don't you ask one of the girls to help you?" Sylvain interrupted, hearing his own voice grow slightly frantic. "They helped you find a uniform—"

Dimitri looked shocked. "I—I could _never_. They never watched me disrobe, I was behind a screen! And besides, while I may _look_ like a girl, I'm still very much a man inside!"

"Alright, alright," Sylvain sighed, holding up his hands. "I get it, none of the girls. I still don't understand why you're asking _me_."

"Who do you suggest instead?" Dimitri asked, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. "Felix?"

Sylvain snorted. "Alright, maybe not. Dedue?"

Dimitri grimaced. "I trust Dedue with my life. H-however, of the people I count as my close friends, you are the only one who is, ah—experienced with women."

"Oh." Sylvain groaned. "So this is my comeuppance for having too much fun?"

"If you like," Dimitri said, straightening his shoulders. "Will you help me, or not?"

This was his chance; if Sylvain refused, Dimitri wouldn't push him. Sylvain had no doubt that, given enough time, Dimitri could get over himself long enough to wash even the most unfamiliar parts of his body. Really, Sylvain would be doing him a favour by turning him down; he'd have to marry some day, after all. The sooner he learned what he was doing down there, the better.

And yet.

"I'll help you."

Relief flooded Dimitri's face and his shoulders sagged. "Oh, thank you."

"You wanna go right now?"

Dimitri shook his head quickly. "Later, the baths will be quiet then."

"Fine, just knock on my door when you want to go."

Dimitri gave a solemn nod. "Until tonight then."

—

Sylvain second guessed his decision several times over the course of the evening. In an attempt to distract himself, he did a little reading, and then even completed the assignment set that afternoon by the Professor. He was just considering doing some _extra reading_ when he was miraculously saved by a knock on the door. 

Dimitri was waiting on the other side, wearing a cloak over his borrowed uniform and looking shifty. 

"Everything alright?" Sylvain asked as he stepped out into the hallway.

"Fine," Dimitri said tightly. "Let's just get this over with."

They made their way along to the baths, which was, as Dimitri had hoped, deserted. He relaxed somewhat at the sight of the empty bath house, and Sylvain bumped their shoulders together lightly. 

"Relax, Your Highness. It won't be as bad as you think."

Dimitri cleared his throat. "Well. We should—disrobe."

It suddenly occurred to Sylvain that he was about to see Dimitri's new body; the unfamiliar curves; the untouched valley between his legs. He swallowed hard, heart beating rapidly as he turned away and pulled off his shirt and trousers, stripping down to his smallclothes. Although he could hear Dimitri rustling behind him, struggling with unfamiliar fastenings, he didn't turn and look until Dimitri muttered a rare curse word.

"...Sylvain, could I trouble you to help me with this?"

Girding himself, Sylvain set his shoulders and then turned around. 

Dimitri had his back turned still, but he'd shed his skirt, jacket and blouse. Gone too were his riding boots, the long socks. He wore a thin undershirt over delicate underwear, and was struggling with the laces on a soft corset. 

"Ah," Sylvain said, unaware that he'd spoken aloud. 

Dimitri glanced over his shoulder. His cheeks and ears were pink. "Could you...please? I—I've no talent for fine work."

"Come here," Sylvain murmured, reaching out. Dimitri turned toward him, and Sylvain began to loosen the knot that Dimitri had accidentally made of his corset strings. He tried to be careful with his touch, but the knot was close against the eyelets of the corset, and working it loose necessarily brought his knuckles into contact with the soft press of Dimitri's breasts beneath his undershirt. The corset wasn't tightly cinched, yet Sylvain could still feel Dimitri's breasts straining against their confinement. He gritted his teeth and focused on his work. After a minute or so he finally managed to unknot the strings, and loosened them enough for Dimitri to slip the garment over his head. Without it, his breasts hung heavier, nipples poking out against the thin undershirt. 

Sylvain realised he was staring, and raised his eyes to Dimitri's face. 

Dimitri was watching him, lips parted slightly. "Thank you."

Clearing his throat, Sylvain turned away. "My pleasure," he said, and winced. "Uh, I mean—I'm going to check that the bath is ready."

He stalked off, trying to ignore the heat suffusing him, the faint nudge of interest inside his smalls. The bath was still full and hot, and he fetched all the necessary items, before returning just in time to see Dimitri pull the thin undershirt over his head and step, nude, into the water.

Sylvain dropped the bucket he was holding with a clatter, and cursed as the soap skidded off across the stone flags. The noise made Dimitri jump and he turned quickly, his breasts bouncing with the sudden movement. 

"S-sorry," Sylvain said, praying that Dimitri wouldn't notice the increased interest in his smalls. He forced a cavalier grin. "Just making sure you're still awake."

Dimitri's brow creased. "I am awake," he said, moving to sit down in the water. 

"I know the feeling," Sylvain muttered to himself. Face flaming, he retrieved the things he'd dropped and walked over to join Dimitri. Setting down the bucket, soap and cloths, he sat down behind Dimitri, within arm's reach but not touching. "What, uh—what do you want me to do first?"

"You should—join me," Dimitri said, halting. "I, ah—imagine you'll get wet too, after all. And it will be...easier."

Sylvain swallowed. "Easier," he said, nodding. "Right." Rising swiftly, he stripped out of his smallclothes, tossing them away from the water, and stepped into the bath beside Dimitri. The other boy had turned his gaze aside, and as Sylvain settled, he allowed himself a moment to look. He couldn't tell whether Dimitri was flushed from the steam or from embarrassment. He was submerged from his chest, but the clear water did little to disguise the shape of his body beneath it; his round, full breasts; the large rosy nipples; the patch of sandy-coloured hair between his legs. 

Tearing his gaze away once more, Sylvain grabbed for the soap and a cloth. "I, uh—imagine you can do most of this yourself."

Dimitri gave a tight nod.

"But," Sylvain continued, his mouth running ahead of his thoughts. "I wouldn't mind...if you wanted me to…" He trailed off, not brave enough to finish the thought.

The look Dimitri gave him was unreadable. Eyes wide, mouth thin. Sylvain opened his own mouth to take it back, but then Dimitri spoke suddenly. 

"...Very well."

Sylvain licked his dry lips. "Alright." He moved closer, wetting his hands and then rubbing the soap between them to lather it. "I, uh—I'll just start then, shall I?"

Dimitri gave the slightest nod. 

Moving to kneel before him in the bath, Sylvain scooped up a handful of water and spilled it over Dimitri's collarbone, watching as it trickled down between his breasts. Dimitri's lips parted again, his breathing quickening, but he didn't speak. Sylvain pressed the soap against Dimitri's shoulder, and moved it across his chest, then lifted one of Dimitri's arms and soaped up the coarse, pale hairs in his armpit. He repeated the same on the other side, then used his hand to massage the soap into Dimitri's skin. Next his arms, then his hands. Dimitri was still breathing quickly, warmth spreading from his face down his throat. When he'd finished gently cleaning Dimitri's hands—he was certain they were smaller than usual—Sylvain paused. 

"It's alright," Dimitri whispered. "You can—touch me." He adjusted his position, putting his shoulders back, lifting his breasts out of the water. 

Sylvain's mouth was dry. He felt hot, and too big for his skin. He hadn't felt this way for a very long time. He enjoyed the brief assignations he had with young men and women alike, but it rarely excited him like this anymore. It had to be the novelty of it; the knowledge that this wasn't really Dimitri's body, that it was new to both of them. Had to be. 

Unable to look Dimitri in the eye, Sylvain rubbed the soap between his hands to make a decent lather, then steeling his courage, he reached out and ran his soapy hands over Dimitri's breasts. At the first touch of his hands, Dimitri tensed, breath hitching in his chest, then let out a soft sigh as Sylvain cupped both breasts, barely able to fit one in each hand. He cleaned beneath them, between, massaging gently with his hands—a little more than was strictly required, but he couldn't help noticing the way Dimitri's breathing picked up again, the way his heart hammered beneath Sylvain's fingers. And then, because he couldn't resist, he gently pinched each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on them until Dimitri let out a very soft, breathy moan. 

Sylvain released him finally. His cock was throbbing, standing up painfully hard in the water. Dimitri's eyes were downcast; Sylvain was certain he must have noticed. Grimacing, Sylvain reached over Dimitri's shoulder for the bucket. He trailed it through the water, then sloshed the contents over Dimitri's arms and chest, washing the soap away. His fingers still tingled with the sensation of Dimitri's skin. "Y-you should, uh. Stand up."

Dimitri's eyes flicked up to meet his. His long, pale eyelashes were damp. "Stand up?"

"So I can, uh—do the rest."

"Ah." Dimitri put his hand back to the edge of the bath to push himself up. Sylvain found himself admiring the bend of Dimitri's elbow, and began to worry that he'd made a serious mistake in agreeing to this. 

Pushing aside his worries, Sylvain picked up the soap again and set about washing Dimitri's legs, starting from his ankles, running his hands up the length of Dimitri's calves, and then his thighs. He stopped short of touching the wiry curls between his legs, but he allowed himself to grab a greedy handful of Dimitri's backside, which was still muscular, but layered over with more fat, which squished delightfully beneath his fingers 

"S-Sylvain!" Dimitri gasped, flinching at his covetous touch.

"Sorry, Your Highness," Sylvain said, looking up at him. "Couldn't help myself."

But the rebuke he'd expected never came. Instead, Dimitri stared back down at him with wide eyes, breasts rising and falling sharply with the heavy movements of his chest. Sylvain released his grip automatically, hands hovering instead by Dimitri's thighs, not quite touching. 

"I—sorry," he said reflexively, hardly aware what he was apologising for. 

Dimitri swallowed, throat clicking audibly in the otherwise silent room. "Sylvain," he said slowly, voice pitched low, but still distinctly _feminine_. "Please finish your task."

"My—" Sylvain began, and stopped, letting his eyes drop to what was in front of him. Wordlessly, Dimitri shifted his weight, opening his legs a little wider. Even though he'd been sitting in the water, Sylvain could smell him, could smell his arousal, rich and wonderful. Without daring to look up at Dimitri's face again, Sylvain reached out to grab a washcloth. He submerged it in the water, then he reached out and grasped Dimitri's ankle gently. "Lift your foot," he said, soft, as though speaking to a frightened animal. "Put your hands on my shoulders." 

Dimitri did, and Sylvain lifted his foot and placed it on his own thigh. Then he took the washcloth and trailed it up the inside of Dimitri's leg. He could feel the other boy trembling. He slid it higher, watching the water run down Dimitri's thigh. He moved the cloth between Dimitri's legs, rubbing gently. Despite his careful touch, Dimitri flinched, fingers digging into Sylvain's shoulders painfully hard.

"Shh, easy," Sylvain whispered, withdrawing the cloth. Without thinking, he turned his head and kissed Dimitri's thigh, stroking the other with his hand. "You okay?"

"I-it's—s-sensitive," Dimitri stammered.

Sylvain smiled faintly. "Well, it's brand new." Dropping the cloth back into the water, he instead scooped up a handful of water and reached up between Dimitri's legs again, spreading his legs wider by turning out the leg that rested on his knee. He pressed his palm flat against Dimitri's cunny first, letting the water run over his fingers, then he slowly moved his hand back and forth, heart racing at the obscene sounds this made. Dimitri was shaking now, panting audibly and clinging onto Sylvain like a lifeline. He dipped his hand back into the water to freshen it, then reached between Dimitri's legs again, gently nudging his fingertips between the soft, slippery folds of skin. "How does that feel?"

"Gh-good—Syl _vain_."

"Shh." Sylvain pressed a kiss to Dimitri's thigh again. "I've got you, sweetheart." Dimitri was wet, he realised; not from the bath, but from this, from _him_. His cock ached at the thought of Dimitri's cunny getting wet for the first time just for him. He wanted to touch, to _taste_ , but this had already gone so much further than it should have. "Dimitri," he murmured, lifting his head. "Give me your hand."

Reaching up, Sylvain grasped one of Dimitri's hands, and led it down between his legs. 

"Sylvain—"

"Trust me," Sylvain murmured. He carefully pressed Dimitri's fingers against his cunny, nudging them into the soft flesh, encouraging him to touch. "Don't be shy. It's your body, it's okay to touch it."

After a moment, Dimitri did as he suggested, moving his fingers around without Sylvain's direction. "It—it aches," Dimitri moaned after a few moments.

"A bad ache?"

Dimitri hummed, still stroking himself, apparently unable to decide.

"Come on," Sylvain said, running his hands along Dimitri's thighs. "Talk to me."

"Nn...it—it feels so _strange_."

Sylvain bit his lip. He ought to stop this, but he didn't want to. "Want me to help?"

Dimitri nodded frantically. "Please, Sylvain—"

"C'mere, sweetheart," Sylvain urged, pulling him closer. He leaned in, breathing deep. He could still smell the rich scent of Dimitri's cunny, watered down now but still strong. Sighing in anticipation, he guided Dimitri's hand back to his shoulder, then grasped hold of his raised thigh and lifted it higher. 

But before he could get a taste, there was the creak of a door opening. Dimitri flinched so hard that he almost toppled backwards, but Sylvain caught him in time. 

"What was that?" Dimitri hissed, dropping down into the bath beside him.

His question was answered moments later by the sound of voices and the padding of footsteps; clearly they weren't the only ones who'd thought to use the bath house as a quiet late-night rendezvous. 

"Damn!" Dimitri muttered, grimacing. He glanced at Sylvain, brows drawn together in worry. "Now what?"

Sylvain frowned. Men and women had separate bathing times and it was severely frowned upon to break the rules. Strictly speaking, he and Dimitri hadn't _really_ broken that rule, but Sylvain doubted Seteth would take the same view. 

"Get your towel," he whispered, indicating with his chin where he'd left them. "I'll grab our clothes."

Nodding, Dimitri moved to the edge of the bath. They both climbed out as quietly as they could manage, and Sylvain hurried to scoop up the pile of clothes while Dimitri retrieved their towels and wrapped himself up in one. 

They managed to hide and change, sneaking out of the bath house without being seen, but whatever strange magic had settled upon them in the hot water had dissipated, and they walked several feet apart, neither able to meet the other's gaze. When they reached the dormitory, they parted with a mumbled farewell and slipped into their own rooms.

Sylvain lay awake for a very long time, thinking about the way Dimitri had trembled against him, the way he'd been so close to tasting his cunny. 

—

The next morning was awkward, to say the least.

When it was time for breakfast, both left their rooms at the same moment. Dimitri stepped out into the hallway, took one look at Sylvain, then squeaked some excuse about forgetting his books and darted back into his bedroom. 

Later that morning, rather than take his usual seat at the front of the class, Dimitri sat right at the back, and determinedly refused to meet Sylvain's eye any time he looked over his shoulder. 

The silent treatment continued at lunch, by which time the others had begun to notice. 

"What did you do to the boar?" Felix asked, stabbing at the vegetables in his soup. 

Sylvain grimaced. "Don't call him that," he said, when he noticed Dimitri's shoulders hunch further at the other end of the table. 

"Why not?" Felix grumbled. "Boy, girl, he's still a beast." 

Sylvain thought again of the way Dimitri shook as Sylvain touched him, of the broken, stifled sounds he made at being touched for the first time. "No more than you or I," he said simply, and just to annoy him, he scooped up some of the larger chunks of vegetable from his own bowl and dumped them in Felix's.

He rose, ignoring the sound of Felix hissing at his retreating back, and glanced at Dimitri as he passed him. Dimitri raised his head only briefly, before looking away again, his face turning pink. 

The rest of the day dragged on. Sylvain stopped trying to catch Dimitri's eye, at which he was mostly successful, and also tried to stop thinking about kissing Dimitri's trembling thigh, at which he utterly failed. He sulked through dinnertime, though fortunately nobody seemed to notice, until Dedue drew him aside on their way back to the dormitory. 

"Sylvain. May I speak with you?"

Sylvain raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course, Dedue. What's troubling you?"

"It is what troubles His Highness that concerns me," Dedue rumbled. He glanced around, frown deepening. "Perhaps we could talk somewhere quieter."

"Lead on," Sylvain said with an expansive gesture. 

Dedue took him, unsurprisingly, out to the greenhouse, which was deserted this time of night. Sylvain waited while he checked every corner for eavesdroppers. Then, apparently satisfied, turned to Sylvain and crossed his arms. 

"Uh—"

"What are your intentions toward His Highness?"

Sylvain swallowed nervously. "My intentions?"

"I am aware that you were out after hours together last night." Dedue frowned. "If you view His Highness as just another conquest—"

"Woah, woah, hold on," Sylvain said, raising his hands defensively. "Nothing happened between—"

Dedue sighed. "Sylvain. I am aware that His Highness holds you in high regard. It is clear that you feel the same."

Sylvain blinked. "O...kay?"

"Please," Dedue said, more softly. "Do not hurt him."

"Ah." Sylvain offered a weak smile. "Wasn't planning to."

"Nevertheless."

Sylvain nodded. "I'll...do my best?"

Dedue looked pleased. "Thank you."

"Right."

"You should go and talk to him."

"Right!"

"Goodnight, Sylvain."

Thus dismissed, Sylvain stepped back out into the cool evening. It was all well and good Dedue telling him to talk to Dimitri; it was quite another matter if Dimitri wouldn't even make eye contact with him. He went back to his room and paced around it, trying to figure out what he wanted to say to Dimitri, unable to stop thinking about the previous night, the slippery glide of Dimitri's wet skin beneath his fingers. 

Realising that he was getting nowhere fast, Sylvain wrenched open his door and went to Dimitri's room. He stood before the door for almost a minute before he finally knocked. Several moments passed before Dimitri spoke. 

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Your—it's me, Dimitri."

There was a pause, then Dimitri opened the door a crack. "What do you want?"

Sylvain's heart was in his throat. He swallowed painfully. "To talk to you."

Dimitri's face clouded briefly, but then he nodded and stepped back, making room for Sylvain to enter. Dimitri had discarded the girl's uniform, and instead wore a thin, loose nightshirt that fell below his knees. The swell of his breasts beneath it was extremely distracting, but Sylvain forced himself to look Dimitri in the eye. They stood and stared at one another, then after several moments of awkward silence, both spoke at once.

"Sylvain—"  
"Dimitri, I—"

Dimitri flushed and looked away. "Please, after you."

"Ahh, yeah," Sylvain sighed, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. "I just—guess I thought I needed to apologise."

To his surprise, shock bloomed over Dimitri's face, eyes wide. "What? Why?"

"Uh—" Sylvain hesitated, too used to having to apologise for his actions. "I...last night." He grimaced. "I took advantage of you."

"No you didn't," Dimitri said crossly. His nose wrinkled. "It was me. I asked you to help me. I—urged you to keep going." He was starting to breathe more quickly, sounding almost panicked. "If I hadn't been so selfish—"

"Woah, woah," Sylvain said, starting forward. Instinctively he reached out to grasp Dimitri's shoulders, squeezing them firmly. "Dimitri, look at me."

Dimitri grimaced, but after a moment he finally lifted his gaze to meet Sylvain's. "Can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," Sylvain said, giving him a little shake. "Got it? You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who couldn't control himself."

"What do you mean?" Dimitri asked in a small voice.

Sylvain touched his lip with the tip of his tongue. "If we hadn't been interrupted last night…"

Dimitri covered his face briefly. "Please, do not remind me. The way I behaved—"

"I didn't want to stop," Sylvain said softly. 

For several moments, Dimitri stared back at him, searching his gaze, grinding his pretty lower lip between his teeth. Then, without warning, he lunged forward and crushed their mouths together. 

It was clumsy, a little painful: Dimitri was obviously inexperienced, but Sylvain had hungered for this for days. If he was honest with himself, probably far longer. He'd longed for it in a way he seldom longed for anyone. Before Dimitri could retreat, Sylvain reached up to cup his cheek, turning his head and softening the kiss between them. 

Dimitri breathed out heavily, but didn't pull away. He raised one slim hand, and let it linger between them for a moment before Sylvain grasped his fingers gently and drew them close. He pressed Dimitri's hand against his chest, then slid his own down to the curve of Dimitri's hip, smiling when he felt the answering hitch of breath.

"Is that okay?" he whispered against Dimitri's lips. 

Haltingly, Dimitri nodded. "Kiss me again."

Sylvain did as he asked, slowly, trying to master his own unsteady breaths. He never minded kissing someone who was new to it unless they were particularly aggressive, but kissing Dimitri felt better than he could have imagined. His shyness was apparent, yet so too was his eagerness, his earnest desire to learn, his need to be wanted. Sighing, Sylvain kissed him more deeply, sliding his arms around Dimitri's waist to pull their bodies together. 

Dimitri gasped against his mouth, fingers clenching in Sylvain's shirt. Without thinking, Sylvain walked him back two steps to the bed, and felt Dimitri's surprised intake of breath when his calves hit the edge of the frame. 

They paused, clinging to one another, panting hard against each other's lips. 

"Do you want to stop?" Sylvain asked softly.

Dimitri licked his lips. "No."

"Are you—" 

"Please, Sylvain," Dimitri whispered. He lifted his lowered eyelashes, holding Sylvain's gaze as he continued, "Make love to me."

Sylvain needed no further urging. He slid his hands down to Dimitri's thighs and, grasping handfuls of his nightshirt, tugged it up to his waist. Dimitri was bare beneath, and Sylvain wondered if he'd dared to touch himself since last night; if perhaps he'd lain awake, as Sylvain had, unable to sleep until he relieved the ache. 

"Can I touch you?" Sylvain murmured, nuzzling into the soft, vulnerable curve of Dimitri's throat. 

Dimitri nodded. His fingers scrabbled at Sylvain's shoulders. "Please—Sylvain, hurry—"

"Shh." Sylvain lifted his head and kissed the corner of Dimitri's mouth. "I'll take care of you, don't worry."

"I trust you," Dimitri murmured. 

Sylvain's heart clenched. He cupped Dimitri's face and kissed him again, hard, arousal singing through him when Dimitri whimpered in response. "Lie down for me, gorgeous," Sylvain murmured as they broke apart once more. 

Nodding, Dimitri grasped the nightshirt where it was bunched up at his waist, and pulled it over his head. His face was pink, the blush spilling down his throat. He sat, then pushed himself backward onto the bed, shyly keeping his knees pressed together. As he settled, Sylvain stripped off his own shirt and trousers, then crawled onto the bed to join Dimitri. He watched the other boy's chest rise and fall sharply as he covered Dimitri's body with his own, balancing on hands and knees, not quite touching him. 

"D-do you—like it?" Dimitri whispered.

Sylvain lowered his head and kissed Dimitri's collarbone. "Like what?" 

"Ah—um—the way I look, like this."

Sylvain groaned. "I _love_ it," he sighed, shifting his weight to his left hand so he could cup one of Dimitri's breasts with the other. "You have no idea how amazing you look."

Dimitri shuddered. "I—I like the way you look, too."

"Oh yeah?" Sylvain murmured, trailing his lips down over Dimitri's chest. The room was cold, and Dimitri's nipples were already stiff. Sylvain took the closest in his mouth, savouring it on his tongue. When he pressed the flat of his tongue against it, Dimitri let out a startled moan. Encouraged, Sylvain drew it deeper into his mouth and sucked on it slowly. 

"S-Sylvain, oh—!" Dimitri cried softly, writhing beneath him. "Please, more…"

As he licked and sucked the swollen bud, Sylvain dropped to his elbow and used his free hand to gently pinch and squeeze the other nipple, rolling it between his thumb and finger. Dimitri shuddered, bringing his hand up to bite into the fleshy heel of his palm. A faint, high whine escaped him, which bloomed into a moan when Sylvain gently dug his teeth into Dimitri's breast, tugging on his nipple.

"G-goddess, your mouth is—" Dimitri's words melted into another long moan as Sylvain gave his nipple another determined suck. 

Sylvain pulled off, breathing heavily. He skimmed his hand over Dimitri's breast, then down, over his ribcage and the curve of his waist. "I want to put my mouth all over you," Sylvain murmured as he followed with his lips, kissing down the centre of Dimitri's chest. "If that's alright with you."

Dimitri groaned, writhing beneath him again, tugging at the bedcovers. "Please," he sighed. 

"Haven't stopped thinking about it," Sylvain sighed, grabbing a handful of flesh over his hip and squeezing joyfully. He trailed his lips over Dimitri's stomach, slipping his hand under Dimitri's leg, bending it up and out as he crouched down between those strong thighs. 

"S-Sylvain," Dimitri gasped, almost flinching out of his grasp. 

Sylvain grabbed onto his thighs more tightly, kissing over his hip. "I've got you," he soothed. Dimitri was trembling again, and it only worsened as Sylvain slid down between his legs, lips reaching the crease of his inner thigh, then the pale, coarse patch of hair. 

Unable to resist, he lowered his head and blew softly on the heated flesh below. Dimitri gave a shudder, hips jerking, breath spilling out of him. Sylvain kissed the inside of his thigh, postponing the inevitable, and then he turned his head and nuzzled into the soft flesh of Dimitri's cunny with his nose and mouth. He paused there, breathing in deeply. 

"Please," Dimitri whispered. The lips of his vulva quivered with the clench of his muscles. 

Sylvain leaned in and pressed his lips softly against the hot folds of flesh. Dimitri was _dripping_ , and he gasped loudly as Sylvain started to stroke him with his tongue, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Sylvain's hair. With a warm sigh of approval, Sylvain closed his eyes and settled in acquaint himself with Dimitri's cunny; the softness of it; the cloying, briny taste; the way Dimitri shuddered and gasped when Sylvain sucked on the swollen lips. The fingers in his hair were pulling too tightly, but it only spurred him on. He drew back momentarily, licking the salt off his lips, then he ran his tongue over the length of Dimitri's slit, until he reached the little bud, closing his lips around it gently. 

Dimitri cried out, arching his back dramatically, heels kicking. Sylvain grabbed onto his thighs more tightly and licked the swollen bud again. He tongued it slowly, determined not to let Dimitri rush him. His cock ached at the sound of Dimitri's startled cries.

"Oh, S-Sylvain," Dimitri moaned, breathless. "It f-feels so good, I'm sorry I—I can't control—o-oh _goddess_."

His hips bucked under Sylvain's mouth, thighs straining against his grasp. Dimitri released his eye-watering grip on Sylvain's hair and instead reached up to grasp the bed frame, whimpering when Sylvain gently took the little bud in his mouth and sucked it. Sylvain knew that he could be selfish in bed sometimes, but he would have happily stayed right where he was until the sun rose. He wanted to feel Dimitri come apart beneath him, to feel him tremble and watch his face change at the height of his pleasure. 

"Don't fight it," he murmured, pulling away long enough to lick his lips again. "Let me make you feel good."

Dimitri groaned loudly. The bed frame gave an ominous _creak_ beneath his hands. 

Kissing his heated flesh slowly, Sylvain moved his hand up and nudged it up against the soft folds, before slowly, carefully, slipping a finger inside him. Dimitri went rigid, panting, muscles clenching around Sylvain's finger. 

"I—I—"

"Try to relax," Sylvain murmured, pushing down a groan. Dimitri was so tight, yet so _wet_ ; it was spilling into Sylvain's hand as he slowly pushed deeper, running down his wrist. Sylvain nuzzled into his cunny, kissing him softly. "I won't hurt you," he soothed.

Gradually, Dimitri began to relax, and Sylvain started to work his finger in and out without hurry, loosening him up slowly. He kept Dimitri distracted with the attentions of his mouth, focusing all his efforts on sucking and stroking Dimitri's bud with his tongue, until he could feel the other boy trembling violently beneath him. Grinding his finger in deep, Sylvain crooked it, stroking inside him until he found a spot that made Dimitri jerk and cry out. He kept stroking, sucking, ignoring the ache in his wrist and face.

"Oh—oh— _oh_ ," Dimitri cried at last, voice rising until it finally broke on a high-pitched moan. Sylvain clung to him as he thrashed through the wave of pleasure, determined not to let him go until he'd wrung every last drop from him. Fluid poured from Dimitri's cunny, soaking Sylvain's arm, and covering his mouth and chin. 

There was a splintering sound, and Dimitri's indulgent moans were interrupted by a shocked little, "Oh!", followed by a more resigned, "Oh dear".

Sylvain lifted his head, wiping his chin on his shoulder. "You okay there?"

Dimitri was holding several small pieces of the bed frame, while a large chunk of it was broken off just above his head. "I—I got carried away," he said, grimacing.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Sylvain asked, sitting up so he could take the splintered pieces of wood from Dimitri's hands. 

Dimitri shook his head. 

"No harm done then," Sylvain said, tossing the pieces aside, and brushing the rest of the shrapnel onto the floor. He took Dimitri's hands, cupping them in his own, and bent down to kiss his palms. Dimitri whimpered. Then, reaching up, he put his hand around the back of Sylvain's neck and dragged him down into a fervent kiss. 

"Dimitri—" Sylvain mumbled against the other boy's open mouth. "Dimi—"

"Thank you," Dimitri gasped, clutching at him. "Sylvain—I feel so…" He trailed off, shaking his head. His eyes were wet and soft. "I cannot put it into words."

Sylvain grinned. "I'm not done with you yet, you know."

Dimitri's eyes widened. "Of course. You must let me...reciprocate."

"Not that," Sylvain said, laughing. Settling beside him, he kissed Dimitri again more tenderly, then slid his hand down again, feeling the quiver in Dimitri's belly beneath his fingertips.

"What—ah! What are you doing?" Dimitri asked breathlessly.

Sylvain chuckled, and nuzzled the soft skin below Dimitri's ear. "I want to bring you off again."

"A-again?" Dimitri gasped, voice melting into a sigh as Sylvain gently nudged his finger back inside. "Really?

"Really," Sylvain confirmed, stroking him slowly. He kissed Dimitri's neck. "Can you take another?"

Dimitri groaned. "Please...yes…"

The sound of his voice was the sweetest agony, turning Sylvain's stomach inside out. He let his fingertips glide through the slick folds of Dimitri's cunny, teasing him for a few moments before slowly grinding two fingers into him. Dimitri threw his head back with a needy whine, reaching up to grab at Sylvain's shoulder, urging him into another messy kiss. He seemed eager to learn, mimicking whatever Sylvain did to him, whether to gently bite his lip, or to suck on the tip of his tongue. And the sounds he made were intoxicating, thrilling Sylvain to his core. 

"Don't be shy," he said, when Dimitri bit his lip, apparently realising at last how vocal he was being. Sylvain lowered his head and took Dimitri's nipple his mouth. "Let me hear you," he murmured, before sucking on it slowly. 

"Goddess—goddess and saints," Dimitri gasped, seizing a handful of Sylvain's hair. "S-Sylvain, please—I-I want—"

Sylvain hummed softly, grinding his fingers in deeper, then pulling out to rub slow circles over his swollen bud. "What do you want, gorgeous?" 

"Mmm more," Dimitri groaned, rolling his hips eagerly. "More—of you."

"Me?" Sylvain increased the pressure, stroking him faster, in tight little circles. "My hand?"

Dimitri shook his head. 

Sylvain started to grin. He took Dimitri's nipple between his teeth again and tugged on it sharply. "My mouth?"

"Ah!" Dimitri gasped. "N-no. Not that."

"Tell me," Sylvain said, stroking him faster. "Dimitri. Tell me what you want."

Dimitri put his arm over his face, covering his eyes. "I w-want your cock," he stammered.

"Goddess," Sylvain groaned, dizzy with his own arousal. He kissed his way up Dimitri's neck, over his chin, his cheek. "You can have it. Anything you want."

"Sylvain." Dimitri moaned, fingers clenching in his hair. "Oh, I'm—I think I—" 

It came over him more quickly the second time, and lasted longer. Sylvain did his best to work him through it, holding him down as he bucked and spasmed with pleasure. Dimitri finally begged him to stop, shivering as Sylvain released him. There were tears rolling down from the corners of his eyes into his hairline. 

"Dimitri," Sylvain murmured, pulling the other boy into his chest. "It's alright, I've got you."

Dimitri clung to him, whimpering softly, occasionally twitching with the aftershocks of his release. There was a puddle beneath him from his spending. Sylvain shushed him gently, stroking his hair back from his face until he'd stopped trembling. 

"Still with me?" Sylvain asked eventually.

"I think so," Dimitri whispered. He blinked up at Sylvain, then he laughed and put his arm over his face again. "Forgive me, I do not know what has come over me."

"Don't apologise," Sylvain said. He propped himself on Dimitri's chest, staring up at him patiently.

After a minute or so, Dimitri took a deep breath and moved his arm away from his face. "My apologies," he murmured. "I fear I have rather spoiled the moment."

Sylvain shook his head. "Nah. We just took a little break." He tried not to think about how differently he would have felt if Dimitri had been just another girl he'd gone to bed with. How he probably would have bolted the moment there were tears. 

Dimitri swallowed thickly. "Then—do you still wish to, ah—" He looked away, face warming. "I will understand if you don't."

"Do I want to fuck you?" Sylvain murmured, just to watch his blush deepen. He wasn't disappointed. He hummed and circled a fingertip around Dimitri's nipple. "Do you want to fuck me, Dimitri?"

Dimitri was scarlet. But still, he lowered his gaze to Sylvain's and nodded slowly. 

"Tell me," Sylvain said softly. He moved onto his hands and knees, inserting himself between Dimitri's spread thighs once more, sliding his hand along one of them. He bent down, close enough to kiss him, their lips not quite touching. "Dimitri," he whispered. He closed his eyes, suppressing a shudder. "I want you so much."

"Please," Dimitri breathed, his voice punching out of him. Tentatively, he reached down between them, and Sylvain almost yelped when Dimitri groped him suddenly through his smallclothes. "Oh," Dimitri sighed, cupping him firmly. "Yes, I—I want this." 

Sylvain laughed. "Are you sure?"

"Sylvain," Dimitri said, his voice suddenly stern, the way he sounded when he came to rebuke Sylvain for his philandering. His eyes were very serious. "Haven't you teased me enough?"

Fresh arousal dropped like a stone into the pit of his stomach, and Sylvain's cock surged in Dimitri's hand. "S-sorry," Sylvain stammered, watching his pretty face with wide eyes.

"Don't apologise," Dimitri murmured, with a faint quirk of his mouth.

Heat rushed to Sylvain's face. "Turning my own words against me, huh?" he murmured. 

Dimitri nodded as he looped his arms around Sylvain's neck. "Do you want to fuck me, Sylvain?"

"Saints," Sylvain groaned. His cock was throbbing. He slid a hand down between them, stroking between Dimitri's legs again. He was still wet, still loose when Sylvain slipped a finger in. 

"Teasing," Dimitri groaned, tipping his head back.

Sylvain huffed a laugh against his chest. "Just checking I'll fit."

Dimitri's breath seized. "Oh."

"Tell me if it hurts," Sylvain whispered. "I'll stop if it hurts."

"A-alright."

Clumsily, Sylvain pulled himself out of his underwear, grasping his cock to angle it against Dimitri's cunny. He cursed softly as he pushed against the soft, wet folds, cock twitching in anticipation. He glanced up to Dimitri's face before continuing, and found the other boy watching him, fiercely determined. The look on his face turned Sylvain's stomach molten, and paralysed him all at once. At least this was one area in which he might be able to live up to Dimitri's expectations, perhaps even exceed them. 

Forcing himself to hold Dimitri's gaze, Sylvain angled his hips and slowly pushed inside. 

Dimitri gave a gasp, clinging to him more tightly. 

"Dimitri?"

"Please, don't stop."

Sylvain bit his lip as he pushed deeper, Dimitri's body opening around him. "Saints," he groaned, dropping his forehead to Dimitri's chest. He took shallow breaths, trying to steady himself; reaching his peak too soon would just be embarrassing. "Are you alright? Does it hurt?"

Dimitri shook his head.

Lifting his head, Sylvain kissed him clumsily. "Should I keep going?" he murmured. 

"Mm," Dimitri hummed, nodding. His eyes were shut tight. 

Drawing back, Sylvain put his hands into Dimitri's knees and pushed them back to his chest, folding him in half as he sank in deeper. 

"Saints, you feel good," Sylvain groaned.

"Yes," Dimitri sighed, grabbing handfuls of his own hair as he arched back against the bed. "S-so full, Sylvain, oh gosh—you're so _big_."

Sylvain laughed breathlessly. "You're good for my ego, Your Highness."

Dimitri groaned, writhing impatiently. "Please, don't _stop_."

"Alright, alright," Sylvain said softly, taking a firmer grip on Dimitri's thighs. He pulled back, then thrust in again hard, burying his cock to the hilt. Encouraged by Dimitri's moans, he started to pump his hips slowly, rocking in and out, the movements accompanied by slick, obscene noises. He could already tell that if he moved too fast, things would be over too soon. Sylvain couldn't tell if Dimitri just felt that good around his cock, or if it was the novelty of the situation, the chance to sample _forbidden fruit_. 

"Are you—alright?" Dimitri asked after a minute. 

Sylvain blinked up at him. "Me?" He laughed. "Are you really asking if I'm alright when we're—doing _this_?" 

Dimitri laughed under his breath. "You just...ah, you looked as though you were in pain."

"Mm." Sylvain adjusted his grip on Dimitri's legs and shifted his weight, moving his hips closer as he leaned up to kiss him. "Just trying not to disappoint you with an early finish," he murmured. 

Dimitri's flush deepened. "O-oh," he said, flashing a rare, genuine smile. "I don't mind about that."

"Oh no?" Sylvain whispered, rocking his hips forward again, grinding his cock deep inside Dimtiri's cunny. "You want my spend inside you?"

" _Oh_ , oh goddess, please—"

"I'll fuck you 'til you're dripping," Sylvain growled, moving faster, watching the way Dimitri's body shuddered and jolted under the onslaught. "And then I'll use my mouth on you until you're begging for my cock again—" Releasing Dimitri's thighs, he grabbed the other boy's wrists instead, pressing them down against the bed as he started to fuck him harder, falling into a rhythm. "Tell me—what you want—Dimitri."

Dimitri wailed, straining against his hold, chest heaving. "More—more, please—"

Sylvain did as he asked, fucking him with short, punishing strokes, until Dimitri was crying out with pleasure each time Sylvain thrust into him, breasts bouncing with the force of their movements. Just as Sylvain felt his peak approaching, Dimitri spasmed suddenly, and Sylvain felt a wet rush between his legs, soaking him and the sheets below.

"Ohh," Dimitri sighed, going limp beneath him, face lax with pleasure. "Sylvain…"

Dropping his head once more, Sylvain latched onto one of Dimitri's nipples and sucked on it fiercely. Dimitri gasped, back arching into him again, and Sylvain came finally, spilling deep inside him with a heartfelt groan. 

They came down slowly, breathing hard. Sylvain released his grip on Dimitri's wrist, and Dimitri looped his heavy arms around Sylvain's shoulders as they breathed one another in, unhurried. Sylvain had the passing thought that this might be the first time he'd _ever_ seen Dimitri relaxed, and he nuzzled more determinedly into the warm, soft swell of Dimitri's chest. Time spun away from him; Sylvain was only aware of the slowing, rhythmic heartbeat beneath his cheek, the steady rise and fall of Dimitri's lungs, the fingers trailing through the damp hair on the back of his neck. 

"Sylvain," Dimitri murmured at last, just as Sylvain was beginning to doze. He blinked awake, startled that he'd let himself drift. "Are you awake?"

Sylvain sat up, grimacing as their skin peeled apart. "Just about." Dimitri was a mess beneath him: his cheeks still flushed, his hair in disarray. There was a purpling bite mark around his left nipple. Realising that they were still joined, Sylvain pulled out of him, unable to stop himself from watching the sticky combination of their spendings spilling out of Dimitri's cunny. 

"What, ah—" Dimitri began, shyly pressing his knees together. "What usually follows?"

An unfamiliar sense of guilt and shame rippled through Sylvain, and he tried to force it away with a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. "A kiss goodnight and home to bed, in my experience."

Dimitri blinked up at him, his face very young and vulnerable, pretty eyes wide. "I see."

Sylvain's resolve crumbled. "But I can stay a while longer, if you want me to."

Warmth filled Dimitri's gaze. "I—should like that," he murmured, flashing a shy smile. 

"Make a little space then, Your Highness," Sylvain said in a cheerful voice, waiting for Dimitri to move over. 

Dimitri frowned, but complied wordlessly. Nerves jangling, Sylvain moved up beside him, the two of them sliding beneath the sticky sheets together. It wasn't as though he always disappeared the moment the act was completed; sometimes there was a second round, after all. Perhaps even a third. But being here with Dimitri was uncharted territory, and Sylvain didn't have a map to help him navigate such a messy situation. 

"We made quite a mess," Dimitri said at last, with a soft, forced laugh.

Sylvain echoed it. "You surprised me with that, Your Highness. I've only known one girl who comes like that."

Dimitri looked round at him, eyes widening in panic. "What do you mean? Was I—did I do something wrong?"

"No, no," Sylvain soothed, his laughter genuine this time. "I mean, when you—for men, stuff...comes out, right? That doesn't really happen with girls."

"Ah," Dimitri murmured, lowering his gaze. His face was pink again. "I did not realise. But I did not even—I didn't… _come_ that last time. While you were, ah—"

"Fucking you?"

Dimitri flushed deeper. "While you were...fucking me. It—it was like you pushed a lever inside me, and it all just...came flowing out."

Sylvain stared. "That's...uh." He laughed weakly. His cock throbbed again. "Sorry, that's...really sexy."

"...It is?" Dimitri asked, lifting his gaze to Sylvain's face. 

For answer, Sylvain gently grasped Dimitri's wrist, and tugged it down beneath the sheets. He pushed Dimitri's hand against his cock, letting him feel it firm up even more at his touch. 

"This is...because of me?" Dimitri asked, eyes widening. 

Sylvain laughed again, reaching out to brush Dimitri's hair back from his face. "Didn't I tell you that I want you?"

Dimitri's brow creased, and Sylvain was afraid for a moment that he was about to cry. "It's just—hard for me to imagine," he whispered. 

"No need to imagine," Sylvain murmured, grinding his cock against Dimitri's palm. "You did this. I like this, your hands on me. Putting my hands on you. Feels good."

Dimitri laughed breathlessly. "N-nobody has—ever told me that before." 

Sylvain looked up at him, movements slowing. "Told you what?"

"That, ah—that it feels good to touch me?" He glanced away. "To—be touched by me."

Sylvain's heart crumpled. "Dimitri…"

"I am sorry," Dimitri sighed, forcing the heaviness from his brow. "Please, do not stop."

"Dimitri, look at me," Sylvain soothed, waiting until Dimitri's fierce, frightened gaze met his own to continue. "What are you afraid of?"

Dimitri bit his lip. He drew in a sharp breath. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You haven't hurt me." Sylvain grinned. "And even if you did, I can take it. Gautier men are made of sterner stuff, you know."

Dimitri managed a weak smile. "But even to hurt you by mistake—"

"You haven't," Sylvain said, his voice gentle but firm. He nudged his lips against the corner of Dimitri's mouth. "It's alright."

"Sylvain," Dimitri half sobbed, pressing closer to him. They fumbled into a messy kiss, the unease and awkwardness melting away. They broke apart finally: panting, clinging to one another, sticky and tired. "I—must confess something," Dimitri whispered. 

Sylvain looked back at him; thrilled; terrified.

"Promise me you won't breathe a word of what I say to you," Dimitri continued. His blue eyes were piercing, pleading, and Sylvain found he couldn't look away. 

"I promise," he vowed. He would've promised anything to those eyes.

Dimitri released a sigh, shoulders sagging a little, dropping his head. "Thank you," he whispered. "The truth is...I've thought it may not be such a bad thing...were I to stay this way."

Sylvain's eyes widened. "Truly? You want to stay a girl forever?"

"I don't know," Dimitri groaned, burying his face in his hands. "It is still...very strange. And yet I cannot help but feel that, perhaps...I would be happier this way."

Sylvain's heart was hammering. He swallowed, trying to force down his racing thoughts, to calm his rapid heartbeat. He thought of how he'd behaved the past few days, practically drooling over this boy who trusted him, simply because Dimitri had misplaced his cock. He wondered if he would still want Dimitri as he wanted him now if someone were to put him back the way he should be. He was afraid that he wouldn't. He was more afraid that he would. "Would you?" he asked, his mind tumbling. 

Dimitri shook his head, lowering his hands. "I—keep thinking of my stepmother. She was such a kind and gentle person." He grimaced, digging his teeth into his lower lip. "There is—so much poison within me. So much rage. Perhaps, if I stayed this way…"

For several moments, Sylvain could only stare at him. "Dimitri," he said at last, speaking slowly, certain he must have misunderstood. "Are you under the impression that women _don't_ get angry?"

"...I—" 

"Have you _met_ Manuela? Or Leonie or Lysithea for that matter?"

"W-well, I—"

"Dorothea has her moments too," Sylvain continued, starting to enjoy himself. He chuckled softly. "Even Mercie, she's got a tongue like a whip when she—"

"Alright, alright!" Dimitri groaned, turning onto his back. "You've made your point. It doesn't matter what I look like, I'm rotten all the same."

Sylvain's mirth dissolved. "Your Highness—that wasn't what I—"

"But it's true, isn't it?" Dimitri spat. He looked over, peering at Sylvain through the hair falling over his eyes. "Felix knows what I am. You know too, don't you?" 

Sylvain gritted his teeth. He wanted to laugh it off, change the topic, pretend not to understand the way he always did. "If—" he began, digging deep in his chest for the black, sick little core that dwelt there. "If you're rotten inside," he said coolly, "then I'm hollow."

"...Sylvain," Dimitri murmured.

"Completely hollow," Sylvain said, the words dull and flat but unstoppable now. "I know you hate the way I go after girls." He paused and laughed. "I hate it too."

Dimitri licked his bottom lip, hesitating. "Then, why..."

"Why do I do it?" he asked when Dimitri trailed off.

Dimitri nodded. 

"Wouldn't you rather feel something than nothing?" Sylvain asked, and followed his words with an empty grin. 

For a moment, Dimitri simply stared back at him, eyes like broken windows. Then he closed the distance between them and kissed Sylvain, hard. "I am so very sorry," he whispered against Sylvain's mouth. "I—I have been—so preoccupied with my own worries—"

"Shh, it's okay," Sylvain murmured, cupping Dimitri's face gently. He nuzzled the tip of Dimitri's nose with his own. "Everything will be okay."

"Sylvain," Dimitri sighed, ducking his head to bury his face in Sylvain's shoulder. "Thank you."

Sylvain chuckled softly. "What for?"

"For trusting me. And—for treating me as a person," Dimitri murmured. "And not just as your Prince."

Nodding, Sylvain slipped his arms around Dimitri's shoulders and held him tightly. Even though he hadn't really changed that much, Dimitri seemed smaller than he usually did. Sylvain buried his face in the other boy's hair and slowly stroked a hand up and down the bare length of his spine. There were things he wanted to say, but he didn't know how, and more he felt but didn't know how to name. He pushed it aside and focused on Dimitri's humid breath against his shoulder. Before long, they both fell asleep.

—

They were at breakfast the next morning when a small crowd of students approached Dimitri, who sat on the other side of the table. Sylvain watched them have an urgent whispered conversation, then he saw Dimitri's shoulders tense, and watched him throw a brief, startled glance in Sylvain's direction. Frowning, Sylvain turned his attention back to his meal. Did that mean they'd found a way to turn him back, or that it couldn't be done?

"Sylvain."

Sylvain looked up from his breakfast at the familiar sound of Ingrid's stern voice. It was a voice she reserved for telling him off about his indiscretions, and his gaze flicked briefly, guiltily, to Dimitri. He'd behaved himself over the past week, but that didn't mean much; sometimes these messes took a little while to sort themselves out. 

"Uh—"

"I know it's none of my business," she said crossly, speaking in a rushed whisper, "but you really shouldn't be messing around in His Highness's room."

Sylvain almost choked. He forced himself to swallow carefully. "What do you mean, Ingrid?"

She grimaced. "I went to borrow a book from Felix last night and we could _hear you_."

Momentary terror lanced through him. He glanced again at Dimitri, who seemed to be calmly eating his breakfast, none the wiser. "You, ah—" Sylvain licked his bottom lip nervously. "You won't tell him, will you?"

"Of course not!" Ingrid hissed, scowling at him. "Just don't do it again."

"Right." He forced a grin. "Got it."

"And while you're at it, you might want to tell your girlfriend to keep it down in the dormitories," she added as she rose, her face pink. "She was...very loud."

Across the table, Dimitri choked on his toast. 

"Sorry, Ingrid," Sylvain said, grimacing as an unsympathetic Felix pounded Dimitri between his shoulder blades. "Won't happen again."

—

Sylvain passed the rest of the morning in a daze. He'd stayed in Dimitri's room until almost dawn. They hadn't slept for long before waking to do it all again, and Sylvain couldn't stop thinking about the perfect wet grip of Dimitri's cunny around his cock, or how Dimitri had looked on elbows and knees, crouched between Sylvain's thighs with his cock in his mouth. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, trying to focus on the Professor's lecture, but his gaze fell on Dimitri once more. 

It was warm in the classroom for once, summer on the approach, and even Dimitri had been forced to remove his heavy gauntlets and jacket. From behind, Sylvain couldn't be distracted by his breasts, but even so he found himself staring at the soft hairs on the back of Dimitri's neck, remembering how they'd felt beneath his fingers. A shaft of light fell across Dimitri's desk, illuminating his forearm, picking out the fine hairs in gold, emphasising the strong muscle that lay beneath his skin. 

With a groan, Sylvain dropped his head onto his desk. He understood, finally. 

"Sylvain?" It was Dimitri. A bare hand gently touched his wrist. "Sylvain, are you well?"

Sylvain lifted his head. Dimitri watched him with an anxious look on his face. The light from the window turned his golden hair into a halo. "I'm fine, Your Highness. A lot on my mind, that's all."

Dimitri nodded. "Perhaps," he whispered, "after class, we could talk."

Sylvain's stomach clenched. "I don't know if I feel up for talking today, Your—"

"Sylvain," Dimitri murmured, and suddenly his eyes were heavy. "I didn't really mean _talk_."

"Oh." Heat rushed to the back of Sylvain's neck. He risked a smile. "Alright."

Dimitri nodded. His hand lingered on Sylvain's arm a moment longer. "Until later," he said softly.

"Later," Sylvain agreed, smiling at him. 

Dimitri returned it, warm and genuine.

**Author's Note:**

> [RT the fic](https://twitter.com/notallbees/status/1245442518008954880) | [RT the art](https://twitter.com/yozoraing/status/1251627527937851395) | [my three houses fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/works?fandom_id=23985107)
> 
> please check out the wonderful art and show yozoraing some love!! (please note it is NSFW)


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